Chapter 1

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, Consensual, Lesbian, Fiction, Masturbation, Petting, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A girl at the dawn of her career as a porn model falls in love with another girl.

I had to laugh, that morning when I met Thibault the photographer. I didn’t laugh in his face, of course, but Shelly the makeup girl and I locked eyes and smiled secretly at each other several times, as Roberto introduced him to us and explained the concepts to everyone. This is the wonderful Thibault? I asked myself. This is the guy that’s going to turn the industry around? I could tell right away Roberto was having issues with him, issues and I’m sure second thoughts. Thibault was a Frenchman, so from the start I could imagine Roberto had issues with him. He was flouncy and nervous acting and spoke with a horrible almost fakey French accent. Once when I came back from peeing in the bushes he was waving his arms around and jabbering madly, while Roberto stared at him like he was crazy. I could tell that Don the lighting guy was almost cracking up, and I understood why. It was funnier than shit.

Cherise and I finally sat with Don and Shelly in folding chairs, and watched the show.

“Ve must vait for ze late afternoon sun...” Thibault the Great was saying. “Ze soft light vill soften ze cheekbones...”

“Thibault!” Roberto finally cracked. “Thibault, man. We’re shootin’ porn. This ain’t no fuckin’ artsy-fartsy coffee-table book shit. This is fuckin’ porn.”

“But ze light ... ze girls are pale, and ze late light...”

“Ze light is fucking fine. We’ve got floods and reflectors anyway, we don’t necessarily need ze sun. Dammit I’m doing it now. Thibault. People are gonna look at this shit and whack off. We are not going for the Pulitzer here.”

“Monsieur...” Thibault drew himself up to his full five foot five stature. “I am an arteest, foremost...”

“Dammit!” Roberto interrupted, “you gonna be an unpaid, out of work arteest if these pics aren’t on the site by tomorrow night. And the web guys need six hours. That gives us eight hours today to get shit done. I want at least four hundred sell-able cunt pics ... sorry ladies,” we nodded to let him know we weren’t offended. He raged on, picking up speed. “I want four hundred pics in at least six themes, by four this afternoon. I know that’s a lot in one day. But Donahue said you could deliver ... can you?”

He stopped and stared at Thibault. Thibault’s shoulder sank. He looked piqued, but he folded.

“Oui...” he said, and nodded. “Oui.”


Cherise was okay, but I wasn’t crazy about her. Well, it don’t matter, it’s just a job. She acted kinda snooty, and I think she looked down on me since she knew I was from Florida. Probably just that she knew I was from the states, period. We’d met her last night at the hotel, Roberto took us and Don and Shelly out to eat and told us what he expected of us. Well, what he demanded of us. I felt like I could do my part, I could deliver, a year and a half ago I would been shittin’ my britches, but I had picked up pretty quick the last little bit. I could tell Cherise was really steamed when Roberto tried to put us in the same room, she whined and begged and bitched until Roberto finally asked me to share a room with Don and Shelly, just to shut her up. I said sure, if they don’t mind, and of course they didn’t.

Don and Shelly Vandenburg might be married, or might just be shacking up, nobody’s figured that out. Don is a lighting guy, and Shelly does makeup, so they work out pretty good as a team in this business. I’d worked with them before, when I did my first sets with Roberto’s old photog, and was reasonably familiar with them. That night we hunkered down in the room and poked fun of Cherise. I told them I knew her a little, that we’d worked together once.

“We’ve worked with her a gazillion times,” said Don, “she’s a picky little high-strung bitch. She whines if they don’t get her special brand of bottled water and ridiculous shit like that.”

“Awww...” said Shelly. Shelly was almost too nice to be in this line of work, I’d thought before. She was a semi-frumpy housewife looking middle-ager, but she was damn good with a makeup kit. I knew the two of them together probably made the same that I pulled in, but hell ... I’d been doin’ this for almost two years now, but in a way I was just gettin’ goin’ ... the first year I’d just fucked away doin’ shoots here and there when I needed money. Still, I had to get some real experience beneath my belt before I could rake in the big bucks. I was still wonderin’ if I wanted to go that route, though. Shelly went on. “She’s just tryin’ to survive, tryin’ to swim faster than the sharks. And she knows it ain’t gonna last forever.”

I laughed. “You got any idea how old she is?” She had looked late twenties early thirties to me. It was obvious she’d taken good care of herself, but you couldn’t hide that shit forever. This was a youngster’s business, mostly eighteen to twenty two’s in it. You almost had to respect someone pushing thirty that was still making it. You didn’t have to like them, but you had to respect them.

“She’s twenty eight, I think...” said Shelly. Don nodded. I have no idea how or why they’d know, but I accepted it.

There’s a whole twisted little world, among the girls that do this shit for a living. A news network, and a grapevine or rumor mill, call it what you will. You lived and died in the business first by how you looked, and then by how you acted towards the producers, directors and photogs. That’s why I was surprised seeing Cherise nag on Roberto. If he dropped her and dissed her, word would get out, and she’d be screwed. Roberto was a big name in the industry, possibly the biggest. To take that risk, just because you didn’t want a roomie? Crazy.

I talked with Don and Shelly until almost midnight, and then we conked out. I knew from the grapevine that they swung, and I halfway expected them to ask me if I wanted to get in on it, but they didn’t ask and we just went to bed. Maybe it was too late, we all had to get up and be in the lobby by eight. I took a shower and hit the sack. Don snored a little, but I managed to get some quality sleep, the first in a week.


Cherise immediately pissed me off the next morning by asking if I’d taken a shower after I’d gotten up. When I said No, last night she rolled her eyes, and it just hit me wrong. Don’t worry, I said with some attitude, I’m clean. She kind of backed off and said, no, no, I’m not worried ... but why else would she say that? She’s gonna do this for a living, and be picky about shit like that? I hoped I was clean, but not spotless.

Everything went fine until nine when Thibault showed up. I done told you how that shit went, but finally him and Roberto hashed it all out, and we got down to business. Cherise acted like we were being persecuted because we didn’t have a dressing room or a tent to strip in, but fuck ... I mean, you’re just taking off your clothes. We were at the fucking beach, two miles out of town ... she told me Donahue had a tent for that shit, when she worked for him. I nodded, rolled my eyes when she turned her head, and yanked my clothes off.

It was a cool morning, and it felt good to be naked. Thibault looked at me and nodded, and spoke to Shelly. She dusted my face a little, did my lips and we all stood and waited on Cherise to get done taking her clothes off. She joined us at last, and Thibault started in on his concept for the beach shoot.

“Ze shadows will be harsh, so ve vill do B and W to see...” he said, when Roberto, who had been standing a ways off talking on his phone, slammed his phone shut and stomped over.

“Thibault! Last warning! No black and white shit! This is porn, goddammit, porn! I wanna see that pink in living color, not fucking black and white! No black and white, and no blurry Hamilton shit! Clear focus, full color, lots of detail. I wanna count individual hairs, if she’s got hairs. Got it?”

Thibault sniffed and nodded, and busied himself with his camera, studiously ignoring Roberto. Roberto shook his head and stomped off. When he passed me, he mumbled “I gotta baby-sit this bastard...” and I smiled at him. Roberto winked, and went and sat on the hood of the land rover, back on his phone. I like Roberto, and have from day one. He’s the first I ever shot for. And he’s never ever came onto me or demanded favors, a first in this business. I gotta admit, I’ve wondered a time or two if he’s gay, but then once I saw him once outside a motel holding hands with a woman. I’ve heard she’s his steady, and she just works in an office, she’d doesn’t even do pictures. Although she was cute enough that she could have.

Thibault talked to me a moment, and I could tell how little he knew about me when he called me Penelope, my stage name, the name I shoot under. I didn’t bother to correct him, I didn’t really care about him. If he thought I shoot under my real name, so what. It was funny enough hearing him say it in his goofy accent.

Thibault finally got busy, and did fairly well in spite of himself, I thought. He gave direction well, and was patient, especially patient since Cherise was a little prima donna-ish that morning. But we got through the shoot by ten, and jumped in the land rovers and headed out into the sticks for whatever was next.

All Cherise and I had done was kiss, on that first shoot. We did kiss each other’s tits some, and I kissed her butt once when I was on my knees, just for a laugh. Thibault smiled and nodded, but Cherise frowned for some reason. Whatever. I knew from what Thibault had said earlier the next shoot was going to be a little sexier, it was on the porch of a cabin, and I had seen Don packing some blankets that morning at the hotel.

I had just chanced to sit up front in the rover that Roberto was driving. Shelly and Thibault were in the back seat. Don was driving Cherise and the kid in the other rover. As soon as we left the beach, Roberto leaned over towards me, and spoke softly to me.

“Gracie, darling,” he said, “I’m sorry about that shit last night. I should have stomped her ass down but I didn’t. I’ll let you have a room to yourself tonight.”

“That’s okay, Rob,” I said, smiling. “I don’t mind being with Don and Shelly.”

“I swear this is the last time I use Cherise,” he said, “she’s turned into a cranky old bitch. She used to be a lot of fun...”

He’d said that last part almost wistfully, and I understood. I knew from the grapevine that they’d been a couple for a while, hell, she’d even lived with him for six months or so. I wondered what had broken them up. In this business, it’s usually not hard to guess.

“Yeah,” I said, “I’ve worked with her before. I did a shoot with her and Red Dog a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah,” he said, “The Dog told that when I saw him last week. He’s kinda why I asked CC for you. The Dog says ... he say’s you’re the next big thing.”

We both laughed. I was pleased. I had wondered earlier if Red Dog was why Roberto had asked for me again, for this time. No biggie, but I was pleased. Word of mouth was big in the business, and it had helped me, this time. I was confident that I could keep Roberto pleased with me, and actually ... he was a good boss ... just do what he asked, and he’d be fair to you.

“Lemme tell you a secret,” he said. “This next shoot ... when you’re gettin’ it on with her ... try this. Stick your finger in her puss, and find her g-spot, a few inches inside, up in the front. Rub her there for a while, and she’ll cum like crazy. Thibault will love the shit out of you, if you can make her cum for real.”

I nodded. I knew Cherise usually pretended, she’d told me on the last shoot we did that it was hard for her to cum. I was sorry for her, until I got to know her better. To me, this shit is as fun as real sex, if you get to cum every now and then. I never had a problem with it, hell, sometimes I would cum from just having my cunt played with. That, and since I was a kid I got off from puttin’ on a show for people.

We got to the cabin, and the guys dragged everything out. This one needed floods, and it took a while for Don to set all the shit up. Cherise and I walked around and looked at the place. It looked like a small operational farm, there were cows and pigs and all that shit. After Shelly finished our makeup Cherise and I walked down the driveway, and turned and looked back. The main house was next to us, and a young boy and girl stood on the porch and watched us. I waved at them, but they just stared, they didn’t wave back. I wondered if they would watch, when the shoot started. I kinda hoped not, that would be weird, but I’d had it happen before. People like to spectate, when the shoot starts ... some for obvious reasons, and some for not so obvious. I’d been on a shoot in San Francisco that was shut down by a mob of white-robed jeezus freaks wearing billboards. Some people really got offended by naked girls.

Roberto finally called to us, and we went back to the cabin. Once again we stripped, this time Cherise got in the rover and stripped and got back out. As usual we waited on her. Don and Thibault had spread a blanket on the porch of the cabin, and we started there, just holding each other. Thibault gave us a little direction but not much, and we got more and more involved. At last I was spread out on the blanket and she was between my legs, lapping my clit. It felt good, damn good, that’s not something you usually fake, and Thibault was right in there with the camera, getting very close. I felt my legs tensing up, and I knew I was gonna cum, fairly quickly. I closed my eyes, but a few seconds later when I opened them I chanced to look off to the side. There, to my dismay, stood the boy and girl, watching us, with a woman talking to them. That really stopped the fun for me. I wondered what she was telling them, if she was telling them it’s normal and natural and nothing to be ashamed of, or maybe ... look at the godless heathens rutting like savages. I mean, why would you let your kids watch shit like this? I’m not ashamed of what I do for a living, but I’m not overly proud of it, either. I supply a product that there is an ever-increasing demand for ... I mean, it’s a business, for god’s sake. But ... here the public was, gettin’ an eyeful.

I was embarrassed to cum, now, but I felt it taking me over, and I clamped my mouth shut and came as silently as I could. I heard Cherise laugh softly below me, and I liked her for a minute or two. After I calmed down a little she just hugged me, and I whispered “thanks,” to her. We rolled, and I spread her legs as Thibault clicked away. I leaned into her, and finally tasted her. Me? I thought. She’s worried about me? Sure, five or six hours had gone by since she’d probably took her shower this AM, but ... damn ... she wasn’t bad, but shit she tasted. She tasted strong ... not really offensive, but strong. I couldn’t remember if she’d tasted like this in Monaco ... I think I would have remembered it if she did. Cunts are funny, they have their own flavor, and I’m sure it depends on where you are in your cycle. I’m pretty familiar with my own taste, from my fingers and the faces of my partners, and I never remember myself being that strong.

Anyway, I licked her clit, and finally worked two fingers inside her, remembering what Roberto had told me. She stared down at me, and I wondered if she knew Roberto had told me her secrets. She finally smiled, and I started rubbing her smooth silkiness, deep inside her body. After a minute she really let go and came, then, it just blasted through her like an electric shock or something. I wondered what the kids thought of that, if they were close enough to really see what was going on. I was even impressed, and I heard Thibault cussing softly to himself, and then laughing.

That was it, we ended with kissing and hugging, and finally Thibault pointed his camera at the sky and said, “Oui, Oui!” I got my shorts and t-shirt off the hood of the rover and put them on. Cherise, of course had to climb back in the truck and get dressed. The children and the woman were gone, thank goodness. The guys cleaned up the site, and we all piled in, and took off for the next place.


We were done by six that evening, Roberto had his pictures, and he was mailing them off to Dallas with his laptop. We all had dinner, our last meal paid for by the company, and wandered back to the motel.

Cherise was walking behind the others with me, and she took my hand, giving me a moment’s pause at her intentions. She leaned into me, and I felt her breath in my ear.

“Stay with me tonight, darling...” she said. I looked at her, and against my better judgment, nodded. If that’s what she wanted. Why did she want it, now, though? Why was I suddenly good enough? Because I’d made her cum?

I got my stuff from Don and Shelly’s room, and moved it to Cherise’s. She was watching TV, and we sat and did that for a while, and then talked some. She, like she’d done in Monaco, gave me a big long rambling lecture on how to plan my career out, what to do and not do, all the shit. I sat through it patiently, I’d gotten this before, from other old-timers. Passing the torch shit, I called it.

I was sitting on the bed, and she finally got up and sat next to me. She reached out almost hesitantly, and put her arms around me. We both giggled, and slowly put our mouths together. She wasn’t a bad kisser at all, and I sighed and lay back, her on top of me. I glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was barely ten. I’d give her a few hours of this shit, and then hit the sack. This wasn’t really my bag, but I was no stranger to another girl in my arms. It would beat the hell out of watching TV.


I woke up, in the middle of the night. My back was against Cherise’s back, and she felt hot, like she had a fever. It felt good, in the chill of the room. I looked at the clock, as was my habit, and wondered what time it was back home, back in Cocoa Beach. I wondered what my parents were doing, if they’d gone to bed yet. You need to call Momma tomorrow, I told myself, you really need to call her and let her know you’re okay. You know how much she worries. I wondered what I could tell them. I’d told them a week ago I was hiking in the Alps, since I’d actually been in the Alps for a few days. I even sent her a pic from my phone of the mountains. I said a prayer again, as I did every night, to the god I didn’t believe in any more, don’t let them find out, god, please, don’t let them find out what I do for a living.


I was back home in Orsay for almost a week before I got a call. It was Red Dog again, with a HC shoot with a guy I’d worked with before. Red Dog sweet talked me, although he didn’t have to, he said he’d seen a spark between the two of us, and he wanted to get some more shots while it was still hot. I just laughed, I didn’t remember a spark or nothin’, I was just doin’ my job. The guy was Darren DeWitt, another newcomer, a guy that was takin’ the business by storm. Hell yeah I’d do it, shit like that couldn’t do nothin’ but help me. He told me to get my ticket at Miki’s the next day, shoot through the Chunnel and be in England by next evening.

I sat around that evening and talked to Madelon, my room-mate. We hadn’t seen each other for a while, and had a lot to catch up on. She’s in the business too, and we always seem to have a lot in common, although we don’t have time to hang around together much. I knew she’d just come off a shoot with Red Dog and the Southsiders, and we talked about that.

“Gracie,” she said. “All the Dog wanted to talk about was you. He’s mad crazy about you. You’ll get some of that shit, I’m sure, when you see him.”

Yeah, I’d been able to tell last time he liked me. He’s subtle, but he makes his desires known. I’d basically pretended like I didn’t understand what he was talking about last time I’d worked with him ... and truth be known, it had been hard to figure out. He was polite, for an old fart, but obtuse.

“He’s not bad...” said Madelon. “I’ve ... I’ve spent my time with the Dog. He took me to the coast for a week last year. He really helped me along, he got me some jobs that I wouldn’t have been able to pull off, on my own.”

Yeah again. I knew Red Dog could boost my career big time. I wasn’t sure if I was willing to make that trade, though. And I wasn’t sure why not. I’d played around a little with a producer or two ... oddly, though, never with Red Dog or Roberto, the two guys that had actually helped me the most. I’m not sure why not ... well, with Roberto, he never acted like he wanted to. I wondered what Thibault would expect from me, next time I saw him. I wondered, like I’d wondered about Roberto before, if Thibault was gay. A surprising number of guys in this business were gay, which seemed odd to me, all the foxy girls that were also involved. Well, probably ... more guys were bi than gay, actually. I understood. There weren’t just foxy girls in the business, there were lots of cute hot guys. Cute hot guys with big cocks.

Speaking of big cocks ... now I was scheduled to do a shoot with Darren ... he wasn’t the biggest, but he was damn close. He’d torn me a new one, almost, a month ago ... at least I’d heard that shoot was still burning hot on SevenWeb ... once again I wished to shit I got a percentage, not just a flat fee. Somebody else, as usual, was gettin’ rich off my ass. We get paid pretty good, but, like I said, we don’t get rich.

Anyway, the next few days would be interesting ... we were doing video, as well as stills. I petted my poor little pussy that night, and told it not to worry. Darren was big, but he had good technique, he’d never hurt me, though he’d stretched me. I wondered if they’d want him to do my butt ... that’s something about this line of work I accepted, but I didn’t always like ... I didn’t wanna tear my asshole up, I’d seen pics of girls, old-timers, who had totally fucked up their assholes from being fucked in them so much. I didn’t want that, I liked my cute little asshole, and I didn’t wanna have to wear a diaper when I got old. Maybe I’d text Red Dog tomorrow, and ask him.


I crossed the Chunnel the next afternoon, and was in Kingston by evening. They put me up in a fleabag, but I didn’t care. That next morning a taxi picked me up, and took me to the shoot. It was in another fleabag hotel, in the old part of town.

I walked in the room and Darren grabbed me and hugged me, and we laughed and kissed. He just had his undershorts on, and I could see his bulge was bulgier than ever. I pinched it and he laughed again.

“Gracie, babe...” he said. “I wanna take you to the Islands. Let’s get this shit over with, and take a holiday...”

I wondered if he was serious. I liked Darren, I really liked him ... but I couldn’t see spending the rest of my life with him. Hell, right now I couldn’t see spending the rest of my life with anybody. I just shook my head.

“I got shoots ‘til July,” I lied. “Then we’ll think about it.”

He actually looked sad and kinda pensive for a moment, and I wondered again how he really felt about me. About that time Red Dog came into the room.

Red Dog is a cowboy, a real Texas cowboy. How he got into this shit I’ll never figure out, and nobody’s been able to tell me his story. That’s no big deal, most everyone in this industry has a past to hide. One intriguing thing about him is the little teardrop tattoo beneath his eye, somebody told me a long time ago that means you killed somebody in prison or some shit like that. I asked him once, after we’d downed some tequilas in El Paso, but he just shook his head and looked sad. Like I said, everybody got somethin’ to hide.

Well, everybody but me. I ain’t done shit other than barely finish high school, and take off my clothes for the camera. I’ve never held a real job, other than some part-time shit in school. I posed for the first time two days after I turned eighteen, and have never looked back. I half-way believe what more than a few people have said, that I’m hot property at the moment, but I know it won’t last forever. There’s always a new one in the wings. I knew I had to make the best of it, while it lasted. A few girls have hung on, just a few ... but the world is full of has-been porno actresses. I had almost already accepted I’d be one of those someday.

“Howdy, Darlin’,” said Red Dog, and crushed me to his body. I felt something beneath his shirt and wondered again if he carried a gun. In Europe? That was crazy. But like I said, he was a real cowboy.

“You and me gotta talk,” he whispered, and I thought oh shit, here we go again. I wondered if I should just give in to him ... I felt like I almost owed it to him. Like I said, he’d done nothing but help me, so far. And a little more help wouldn’t be bad. In a way, I thought, I’d almost rather go to the Islands with him than Darren ... I’m not sure why, though.

I put my mouth in his ear. I knew it felt sexy. “Yeah,” I said. “We’ll talk.”

He let me go, and nodded to his photog, a guy I’d never seen before.

“Take it off, people!” the guy said loudly, and we began.


An hour later I was on the bed, my ass in the air as Darren squeezed his massive cock into it. Relax, I told myself, holy fuck relax ... it was hard, though, and fuck ... he kinda hurt me. I knew it wasn’t his fault ... but damn, it hurt. The photog had introduced me to a woman, a masseuse, I think, and she’d taken me in the bathroom and given me an enema to clean my guts out. I’d assured her that I’d pooped that morning, but she said David, the photographer, insisted. He didn’t want any shit in his shots. I understood, but it was embarrassing, although a little sexy when she’d spread my ass and gently put the enema nozzle into my asshole. At least she’d left when I pooped, and I had a little quality private time, sitting on the john, playing on my phone, humming to myself.

Like I said, Darren was plowing and planting, pumping and panting, and my poor little ass was suffering. It was hard to look sexy, I kept wanting to grit my teeth, and about every fifth shot David took seemed to be my face. I wanted to cum, just because it’s what I usually do, and maybe it’d take my mind off the pain, I thought, but I couldn’t. I frigged my clit like mad, and thought of all the sexy shit I could, but it just didn’t happen so I had to pretend. Luckily I’m reasonably good at that. David was finally pleased, he took a few as Darren finally slid out of me, and at last it was over. The video guy finished up, I’m not sure if he got quality shit or not, since David and the stills were the main focus and had the right-of-way. Who knows.

I finally stood up, a bit woozy, and toddled off to the bathroom and pooped out Darren’s sperm. I was just wiping my ass when the door opened, and he walked in.

“Fuck, Darren!” I said, embarrassed. I’ve never been on the shitter in my life with somebody else in the room, except maybe my Mom when I was a kid. I actually tried to hide myself and he laughed.

“Gracie, honey,” he said, dropping his undershorts and getting in the shower. “I just fucked ya, darlin’. I’ve seen it all.”

I laughed, it was a bit dumb. He turned the water on, and motioned for me to get in with him.

“Come on in,” he said. “I won’t bother you ... promise.”

I sighed, flushed, and finally got in the tub with him. We scrubbed each other’s backs, giggling, and and I washed my pussy and ass. We giggled as he washed his cock. Finally he stopped and stared at me.

“Gracie,” he said, and I could tell he was serious. “Gracie, honey, just let me hold you for a minute.”

I nodded, and he wrapped his arms around me, and hugged me to his body. I felt his cock press against my thigh, and he didn’t even have a hard-on. I understood what he was feeling ... intimacy is non-existent in this business, and we all crave it. Doing this for a living seems to make it hard to find, in the business or out. I’d felt the pull even the other night with Cherise. I just let him hold me, and squeezed him back. We just stood under the hot water for a few minutes, and held each other. I cried a little, I’m not sure why, and when we finally pulled apart I could tell he’d been crying, too.

“Thanks, baby,” he said softly, and I kissed him, and we got out of the tub and dried each other off. When we got back in the living room everybody was gone except Red Dog.

“We gotta vacate, kids,” he said. “Renter comin’ back at four.”


Red Dog took us to dinner, and seemed to watch me, but he didn’t say anything else. Finally I was free. I shopped for a while at the mall, but didn’t buy anything. I finally called a girl I’d worked with that lived in Hatton, and asked if I could crash for the night. We had a fun evening, we made cookies and watched a movie, and finally about midnight she turned to me.

“You gotta go home tomorrow?” she asked. Her name was Twillian, and of course everybody called her Twill.

“Yeah, my ticket is for tomorrow morning,” I said, pulling it out to make sure.

“I wish you could stay,” she said. “I ain’t got no friends in this goddam town.”

I was surprised that she considered me a friend. It sounded like she did. I smiled at her.

“Twill, honey,” I said. “I’ll come back in a week or two, I promise. We’ll do some fun shit. Or, hell, if you cross the channel look me up. You can stay with me whenever, however long, if I’m there.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she said. “I know you’re busy, darlin’. I just get lonely sometimes.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I feel it too. It sucks.”

We hugged, and she felt soft and warm in my arms. And she smelled good.

“Gracie,” she said softly. “You can sleep on the couch ... or in my bed. Your choice.”


I woke up again, in the still of the night. For a short time the silence was broken, as a plane either took off or landed at Heathrow. I squeezed Twill against me a little tighter and put my face in her hair, smelling of her again. Damn, the girl smelled good. We’d made love for an hour, soft slow gentle girl love, and then we’d gotten all horny and pounded each other hard with a King-Kong sized vibrator she’d pulled out from underneath the bed. I felt again what I’d felt with Darren and Cherise, that hunger. I could love this, I thought, which I hadn’t thought with him. I could hold onto this for the rest of my life. Actually it didn’t seem to matter to me if they were male or female ... I just wanted somebody to love. You’re too young for that shit, I told myself ... you got plenty of time to play around. Don’t tie yourself down. I sighed, and squeezed her tighter. She mumbled in her sleep and pushed back against me.

“Goodnight, darlin’,” I whispered in her ear. “I love you. Goodnight.”


I was on the sidewalk, waiting for the next taxi to come by, when my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. No name, but I recognized the number.

“Hi, Dog,” I said.

“Baby, I still wanna talk to you,” he said. Oh that, I thought. Yeah, he’d said that.

“I’m heading for the Chunnel,” I said, “can we do it on the phone?”

“I’d rather not,” he said. “I’ll pay to change your ticket. Meet me at Davenger’s. Please?”

I sighed. I kinda wanted to just go home. The shoot had been harder than I’d expected, and my butt still felt weird. I still wasn’t sure how tangled up with him I wanted to get, and I was fairly sure this was about an entanglement. But ... he’s one of the half-dozen guys in the world that held my life in his hands. I almost felt like I didn’t have a choice. I wondered again what he looked like naked. For an old fart, he looked like a hard-body with his clothes on. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad with them off. The rumor was he had a big cock, although a surprisingly small number of girls out there claimed to have seen it. The Dog was careful ... I knew that. Most of his former partners were either in other lines of work than porn, or were good at keeping their mouths shut. I wondered if I would be.

I finally got my taxi, and got out at Davenger’s. He was there, waiting. He took my arm and we went inside and got seated and he ordered for me. We each had a few sips of wine, and I waited for him to get started. I knew his mannerisms pretty well, by now.

“Gracie, darlin’,” he finally said, in his slow drawl. I looked at him and felt like a mouse staring up at a cat.

“Gracie, you’re the cutest thing to come down the pike in a long time. I love you like my own flesh and blood. I feel a great affinity to you, child, but don’t get your hopes up, I’m not invitin’ you into my bed. I love you more than that. I know this sounds crazy, but wanna ask you to seriously think about what your plans for the future are ... your long-range plans. Most of all I want you to think about ... about gettin’ out of the business.”

I just stared at him, a little confused. This wasn’t really going where I expected it to. Out of the business? His life and livelihood was the business. He was trying to get me to quit?

“Gracie, honey ... this business chews up and spits out little girls like you. I know you love it ... I can tell you love the attention, and you love to perform. I know I’m just an old fart, to you ... but I’ve been doin’ this for twenty years ... I’ve seen things that just flat out broke my heart. I want something better for you ... you are better than this. Put some money in the bank, if you haven’t already, go to school, and get a real job. An honorable job. Now don’t take this wrong honey, but get your dignity back, your self-respect. I want you to be a woman, not just a good-lookin’ hide stretched over a piece of meat. I want you to see yourself as worth more than this. Does any of this make sense to you?”

I grimaced. It did, but it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear from him. I thought he’d be inviting me to spend the week at his place or something. I didn’t really want to hear advice about career changes and shit ... or hell, the direction my life should take.

“Dog,” I finally said, when it became obvious he was waiting for an answer. “Thanks for what you said. I love you, too ... you been very good to me, you helped me a lot. I ... I know that shit, what you said. Yeah, I seen it happen, with girls like like Celeste Harmes. I know what you mean. I don’t think ... I don’t think it’ll happen to me...”

“Nobody does, honey,” he said sadly, shaking his head.

“Please don’t worry ‘bout me,” I said. “I already been thinkin’ that I won’t do this the rest of my life ... I know you’re right, but ... damn, I’m just barely twenty. I got time to make a little money, have a little fun ... and then, like you said, do something with my life.”

“Okay,” he said. He looked sad, I think he knew he wasn’t changin’ my mind. “It’s easy to think that, and then wake up twenty years down the line, worn out, broke down, and so tired of life you just want to end it all. I don’t want that for you, I want something better. I love you, and I want something better.”

I was silent, perplexed, and not knowing where to go from there. He held out his arms, and I scooted over and let him hug me. That, at least, I could do right.

“Gracie,” he said softly into my ear. “Roberto and CC are fixin’ to make an offer to you. If you go exclusive, they’re gonna do a site for you, and start a big promo, from print to web to video, the works. They think they can make you the next big star, and I’m sure they can, if you look at their track record. I’m not tellin’ you to say no, but read the fine print. Don’t sign away your soul, along with everything else. They’ll own you, body and soul, darlin’. Body and soul.”

He pushed me back a little, and stared into my eyes. I gulped, trying to process all that. Exclusive meant I wouldn’t work for Red Dog any more ... I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. Still ... it’d mean money like I’d never seen, so far. Hell, I thought, a few years of that shit ... I’d be set for life. I could do exactly what he’d advised me, I could bow out of the business, then, and sit at home and count my money. I wasn’t sure how he expected me to say no, if that’s what he was hoping I’d do.

“Dog...” I said, leaning back down and putting my head against his chest. “Thanks for lettin’ me know ‘bout that shit. I’ll think about it, like you said. And I’ll think about everything you said ... you’re right, in a lot of ways...”

Except ... another thought occurred to me. My parents. How could they help but find out about me, about my secret life, if I let Roberto and his gang do a publicity blast on me? If they, like Red Dog said, made a star out of me? I’d felt safe, doing pics and video that mostly went to the internet or DVD ... my parents didn’t even have a computer, much less the internet. Although ... people in my family could always find out and tell them ... that was something I’d held my breath about since I’d started this shit. That was my greatest fear.

“Dog...” I said. “I got ... I got reasons not to do that shit. If my family ever found out ... I’d die, I’d just fuckin’ die. I ... I don’t think I can sign any shit for Roberto. I can’t be the next big star.”

I was almost sad, to kinda have it dangled in front of me like that, and then taken away so quickly. I sighed. Still ... shit ... I wasn’t ready to hang it up. And ... I had to do something ... half an apartment in Paris isn’t cheap. I didn’t want to tuck my tail between my legs, and creep back to Cocoa Beach. I’d been telling everybody back home I was going to school ... at some point maybe I should actually do that, go to school. Red Dog was right ... this shit was fun, but I knew I couldn’t do it forever.

“I’m not trying to twist your arm, honey,” he said. “I just want you to be very careful what you do. In the short term, and in the long term. I don’t wanna read about you in the newspaper someday ... like I did Celeste.”

Celeste Harmes had been one of his, before she was anybody’s. She’d ended her life, after shacking up with a porn king from the Russian mafia ... one night, somewhere South of Moscow she drank a bottle of vodka and washed her mouth out with a revolver. She was one of those girls that’d been a star, for a little while ... I sighed, and hugged him. He’d given me a lot of shit to think about ... and I appreciated him warning me about that shit with Roberto ... I was glad I’d be going into it with my eyes open.

I finally sat up, and we wound the conversation down. He gave me even more advice, short-term stuff, and I nodded and filed it away.

“Hon,” he finally said. “I gotta be in Sacramento tomorrow, for family shit. You think about what I said.” He said what he always said at the end, “Be careful, it’s a jungle out there.”

We stood and I hugged him, and we headed outside. We shared a taxi, him to the airport, and me to the Chunnel. The last I saw of him was his sad-looking face, as he watched my taxi drive me off.


A month passed. I did two shoots, one for Roberto, and one for some new guys out of LA. I waited with bated breath, for “The Offer” to be made to me so I could turn it down ... if that’s what I decided to do, when the time came. I finally got a little impatient, in fact.

A shoot came in, and I took it. Girl on girl, in a motel here in Paris, not more than ten miles away. That was almost too good to be true. I did enjoy traveling, but it’d be nice to be home that night, after it was over. That morning I showered, lightly made myself up, dressed and flagged down a taxi. I got out at the Raphael. I was impressed ... this was for a producer named Harato Takisawa, known in the business as “The Chainsaw.” I’d worked for him once before, and he’d impressed me with his tightwaddery. Maybe he’d won the lottery or something, I thought.

I got to the room, and the Chainsaw opened the door. He grabbed me and hugged me, squeezing my butt like he owned me. He was short, and his face was right in my tits. I giggled and acted like I liked it, and finally pulled away from him.

“We got girl, nice girl for you,” he said, smiling and nodding, in his usual way. The Chainsaw could really throw you, he came across like he’d just got off the boat, but he was clever and crafty and more devious than a roomful of cardinals. He’d ripped me last shoot by withdrawing “Room &as there, waiting. He took my arm and we went inside and got seated and he ordered for me. We each had a few sips of wine, and I waited for him to get started. I knew his mannerisms pretty well, by now.

“Gracie, darlin’,” he finally said, in his slow drawl. I looked at him and felt like a mouse staring up at a cat.

“Gracie, you’re the cutest thing to come down the pike in a long time. I love you like my own flesh and blood. I feel a great affinity to you, child, but don’t get your hopes up, I’m not invitin’ you into my bed. I love you more than that. I know this sounds crazy, but wanna ask you to seriously think about what your plans for the future are ... your long-range plans. Most of all I want you to think about ... about gettin’ out of the business.”

I just stared at him, a little confused. This wasn’t really going where I expected it to. Out of the business? His life and livelihood was the business. He was trying to get me to quit?

“Gracie, honey ... this business chews up and spits out little girls like you. I know you love it ... I can tell you love the attention, and you love to perform. I know I’m just an old fart, to you ... but I’ve been doin’ this for twenty years ... I’ve seen things that just flat out broke my heart. I want something better for you ... you are better than this. Put some money in the bank, if you haven’t already, go to school, and get a real job. An honorable job. Now don’t take this wrong honey, but get your dignity back, your self-respect. I want you to be a woman, not just a good-lookin’ hide stretched over a piece of meat. I want you to see yourself as worth more than this. Does any of this make sense to you?”

I grimaced. It did, but it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear from him. I thought he’d be inviting me to spend the week at his place or something. I didn’t really want to hear advice about career changes and shit ... or hell, the direction my life should take.

“Dog,” I finally said, when it became obvious he was waiting for an answer. “Thanks for what you said. I love you, too ... you been very good to me, you helped me a lot. I ... I know that shit, what you said. Yeah, I seen it happen, with girls like like Celeste Harmes. I know what you mean. I don’t think ... I don’t think it’ll happen to me...”

“Nobody does, honey,” he said sadly, shaking his head.

“Please don’t worry ‘bout me,” I said. “I already been thinkin’ that I won’t do this the rest of my life ... I know you’re right, but ... damn, I’m just barely twenty. I got time to make a little money, have a little fun ... and then, like you said, do something with my life.”

“Okay,” he said. He looked sad, I think he knew he wasn’t changin’ my mind. “It’s easy to think that, and then wake up twenty years down the line, worn out, broke down, and so tired of life you just want to end it all. I don’t want that for you, I want something better. I love you, and I want something better.”

I was silent, perplexed, and not knowing where to go from there. He held out his arms, and I scooted over and let him hug me. That, at least, I could do right.

“Gracie,” he said softly into my ear. “Roberto and CC are fixin’ to make an offer to you. If you go exclusive, they’re gonna do a site for you, and start a big promo, from print to web to video, the works. They think they can make you the next big star, and I’m sure they can, if you look at their track record. I’m not tellin’ you to say no, but read the fine print. Don’t sign away your soul, along with everything else. They’ll own you, body and soul, darlin’. Body and soul.”

He pushed me back a little, and stared into my eyes. I gulped, trying to process all that. Exclusive meant I wouldn’t work for Red Dog any more ... I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. Still ... it’d mean money like I’d never seen, so far. Hell, I thought, a few years of that shit ... I’d be set for life. I could do exactly what he’d advised me, I could bow out of the business, then, and sit at home and count my money. I wasn’t sure how he expected me to say no, if that’s what he was hoping I’d do.

“Dog...” I said, leaning back down and putting my head against his chest. “Thanks for lettin’ me know ‘bout that shit. I’ll think about it, like you said. And I’ll think about everything you said ... you’re right, in a lot of ways...”

Except ... another thought occurred to me. My parents. How could they help but find out about me, about my secret life, if I let Roberto and his gang do a publicity blast on me? If they, like Red Dog said, made a star out of me? I’d felt safe, doing pics and video that mostly went to the internet or DVD ... my parents didn’t even have a computer, much less the internet. Although ... people in my family could always find out and tell them ... that was something I’d held my breath about since I’d started this shit. That was my greatest fear.

“Dog...” I said. “I got ... I got reasons not to do that shit. If my family ever found out ... I’d die, I’d just fuckin’ die. I ... I don’t think I can sign any shit for Roberto. I can’t be the next big star.”

I was almost sad, to kinda have it dangled in front of me like that, and then taken away so quickly. I sighed. Still ... shit ... I wasn’t ready to hang it up. And ... I had to do something ... half an apartment in Paris isn’t cheap. I didn’t want to tuck my tail between my legs, and creep back to Cocoa Beach. I’d been telling everybody back home I was going to school ... at some point maybe I should actually do that, go to school. Red Dog was right ... this shit was fun, but I knew I couldn’t do it forever.

“I’m not trying to twist your arm, honey,” he said. “I just want you to be very careful what you do. In the short term, and in the long term. I don’t wanna read about you in the newspaper someday ... like I did Celeste.”

Celeste Harmes had been one of his, before she was anybody’s. She’d ended her life, after shacking up with a porn king from the Russian mafia ... one night, somewhere South of Moscow she drank a bottle of vodka and washed her mouth out with a revolver. She was one of those girls that’d been a star, for a little while ... I sighed, and hugged him. He’d given me a lot of shit to think about ... and I appreciated him warning me about that shit with Roberto ... I was glad I’d be going into it with my eyes open.

I finally sat up, and we wound the conversation down. He gave me even more advice, short-term stuff, and I nodded and filed it away.

“Hon,” he finally said. “I gotta be in Sacramento tomorrow, for family shit. You think about what I said.” He said what he always said at the end, “Be careful, it’s a jungle out there.”

We stood and I hugged him, and we headed outside. We shared a taxi, him to the airport, and me to the Chunnel. The last I saw of him was his sad-looking face, as he watched my taxi drive me off.


A month passed. I did two shoots, one for Roberto, and one for some new guys out of LA. I waited with bated breath, for “The Offer” to be made to me so I could turn it down ... if that’s what I decided to do, when the time came. I finally got a little impatient, in fact.

A shoot came in, and I took it. Girl on girl, in a motel here in Paris, not more than ten miles away. That was almost too good to be true. I did enjoy traveling, but it’d be nice to be home that night, after it was over. That morning I showered, lightly made myself up, dressed and flagged down a taxi. I got out at the Raphael. I was impressed ... this was for a producer named Harato Takisawa, known in the business as “The Chainsaw.” I’d worked for him once before, and he’d impressed me with his tightwaddery. Maybe he’d won the lottery or something, I thought.

I got to the room, and the Chainsaw opened the door. He grabbed me and hugged me, squeezing my butt like he owned me. He was short, and his face was right in my tits. I giggled and acted like I liked it, and finally pulled away from him.

“We got girl, nice girl for you,” he said, smiling and nodding, in his usual way. The Chainsaw could really throw you, he came across like he’d just got off the boat, but he was clever and crafty and more devious than a roomful of cardinals. He’d ripped me last shoot by withdrawing “Room & Board” from my fee, the cost of the motel room he’d put me up in the night before. Most producers absorbed that as the cost of doing business. Most, hell ... all of them so far, all of them but him. He hadn’t said a word about it until I’d checked my deposits at the bank and called his secretary to mention they’d shorted me three hundred bucks. You had to watch the guy.

I went into the room, and nodded at the photog, a guy named Dennis that the Chainsaw usually worked with. A makeup girl was there, and a grip, a kid to run errands and hold shit. I went on over and let the makeup girl start on me.

The bathroom door opened, and my life changed forever.


I’ve had a ... hmm, a slightly irregular love life, I guess. I had a half dozen boyfriends, I played the field from age twelve until high school, when I met Willis. Wild man Willis, the greatest fear of every mother of high school aged girls in Brevard county. He had a reputation taller than a Saturn Five ... and a string of paternity claims a mile long. Somehow I avoided that pitfall, my mom had put me on the pill when I was barely thirteen, since so many girls in the area were having babies. It violated their religious beliefs, and I still don’t think my Dad ever knew ... but it saved us all a little grief, because, like most of my classmates, I screwed around. Me and Willis seemed made for each other, I was cute and sweet and he was handsome and reckless ... but he was sweet to me. We had a burning hot little textbook love affair that just flat broke my parent’s hearts. He popped my cherry on the beach one hot August night the summer I turned fifteen, and we never looked back. We burned the candle at both ends, and planned our life out together.

All those parents out there should have appreciated me, because I took him out of the baby-makin’ business for almost three years ... although, as I found out, a little of that shit still went on, on the side. We were a couple for, like I said, three years ... and I really think he tried, he tried hard to change his nature for me ... but in the end it wasn’t possible. I found out he’d gotten yet another girl pregnant, while he was engaged to me, and I finally saw the light and called the wedding off. I spent a year getting over a broken heart, although, I’m still not totally over it ... you never do, you never get over your first true love. It’s hard for me to trust guys now ... maybe that seems unfair, but a girl had never broke my heart like that. Of course, I had never loved a girl until what happened ... happened. I never even kissed another girl ‘til I got into porn, and it became a requirement. My first girl on girl wasn’t hard, she was cute, clean and smelled good ... it was sexy and naughty and I came so hard and so real the pics stayed on top at Sevenweb for over a month. That one set actually jump-started my whole career, and I still get feedback from it.

Back to the story. I haven’t had a boyfriend since Willis ... I’ve gone out, and even dated a few guys steadily for a month or two here and there ... but it’s never happened for me, since him. It’s never clicked. It’s me, I know ... I hold people at arms length now, like I have Darren Dewitt. I didn’t know if I could ever love again. That I might, and that it might be a girl ... that thought wouldn’t have occurred to me, not in a million years.

The girl that walked out of the bathroom was tall, tall as I am, and rangy and slim. In fact the first thing I thought about her was how much she looked like me, physically. And her face ... she was the most staggering beautiful thing I had seen in my life, so far. I think ... I think from that instant, that literal millionth of a second, that I was already so deeply in love with her that she would have looked beautiful to me if she’d been green and had horns. I didn’t realize it until later, but I was already in love with her, before we ever spoke.

“Grace, this is Elspeth Cavner...” the Chainsaw said, in his irritating accent. “Elspeth, Grace. Grace, Elspeth.”

We both giggled at him, our eyes locking ... I asked her later if she felt, it then, that first moment, and she just looked at me, amazed, and said, “Yeah.” Our gazes locked, our hands touched for a moment ... and something bigger than both of us stirred and woke up.

We sat on the couch, our knees touching, and made small talk. She was from, of all places, Oklahoma ... a tiny farming town out in the panhandle. I hung on her every word, and wondered why, because I hadn’t yet realized I loved her more than life. But her four or five sentences of life story fascinated me. I mumbled a hasty story of my own, telling her about growing up in Cocoa Beach, and watching dozens of shuttle launches from my back yard. The makeup girl called her, and I followed her to the chair and we talked some more while she got beautified, not that she needed much. My Elspeth is so beautiful that makeup detracts from her beauty, and the makeup girl seemed to realize that and just dusted her a bit. Her lips are so fat and red that lipstick would be a crime.

The Chainsaw called us all to order, and the most fabulous two hours of my life began.


If anything good can be said about the Chainsaw, it’s that he’s a totally hands-off producer. Every other facet of his life he seems to control, down to the tiniest details, but once the camera starts clicking, he just seems to sit back and enjoy the show. Dennis, the photog on this shoot, did a little directing at first, but he didn’t have to do much ... after the first kiss, Elspeth and I were so wrapped up in each other that we didn’t pay any attention to him ... him or the other four people standing around.

Her body was ... I have no words. Her body, her taste, her looks and her personality ... it all seemed to come together into something that resonated inside me, something I’d craved without knowing it for my whole life. She was exquisite, wonderful, marvelous ... and just so fucking sexy my nipples hurt. My clit peeked out an extra inch, wanting to see this girl that the rest of my body was raving about. Later ... when her tongue touched me, down there ... I’m getting ahead of myself.

I wrapped my arms around her hard softness, and felt the muscles beneath her smooth skin. I knew she worked out, and probably lifted or something ... she felt tight and hard. I’m no Atlas, but I hit the gym religiously ... I’m sure I felt about the same to her. I didn’t wonder, that first day, if she felt about me like I felt about her ... it wasn’t important yet, I didn’t know I was in love with her yet. But I loved holding her ... and when our mouths touched, it was electric. Our tongues touched, the first kiss ... I tasted her saliva, and that indefinable elusive taste that is her body ... I had been hungry my whole life, and finally ... fucking finally, I tasted what I’d craved.

I was flowing by then ... my cunt, usually just comfortably damp, poured like a fire hose. I literally felt, at one point, a drop streak down my inner leg. I worried that Dennis might stop the shoot and ask me clean up, sometimes they wanted you unrealistically clean and shiny.

I was hot, burning up, to feel this girl in my arms. We kissed so much Dennis made “move along” noises, and I finally slid down, down to heaven. Her tits ... once again, I have no words. Her tits are full, not to excess, two fat little teardrop shaped blobs of heaven. Her nipples are fat and pink, the word “puffy” is over-used, but I can’t think of what else describes them. Almost more than a mouthful. I love her nipples. I mean, I love mine, but I really love hers.

I made love to her fabulous tits until once again Dennis cleared his throat. Elspeth laughed and grabbed me, and rolled me over just like I was a baby. She bit my nipple almost painfully, and left a trail of spit down my belly, past my navel, and sucked my clit into her mouth.

I’m a lucky bitch, for lots of reasons. Pretty near the top of the list is my clit. I’ve got a huge fat clit, and I think it’s the reason I can cum like a motherfucker. It’s as big as my index finger almost, and you can even see it peeking out when I stand normally, my legs together. No hood, just a fat little bump, that I think every single nerve ending in my body connects to. I’d learned about my clit at an age so early I can’t even remember ... I do remember being four years old or so, and holding the shower nozzle on it. Oh, hell yeah, I learned about it quickly. My clit is as big a part of my childhood as my pilly, the little pillow that my grandmother made me, that I still sleep with. I love my clit, and the pleasure that it’s given me over the years. I think of it as a vital and integral part of my body. When I’d studied Latin in high school I’d re-christened it “Clittus.”

Elspeth stopped, and just looked at it for a second. She grinned, looking up at me, and I knew what she was thinking. She told me later her actual thought was “Holy Fuck!” and we giggled. I knew she liked the damn thing. She curled her lips around it like a cigarette, and sucked, and my legs jerked. She ate pussy like a pro, actually she mostly ate clit like a pro, that night. It’s an attention-grabber.

I came, hard and sharp. My legs trembled and curled around her head, and Dennis made a noise that told me I was blocking the camera. Dennis? I thought. I’d forgotten about him. I’d forgotten everything, everything but her tongue on Clittus. That quick, I felt another orgasm start. God, that girl ... she could work me. Afterwards, I rolled her, and smashed my hungry face into her crotch.

I got words for this one. Her pussy tasted like heaven. It tasted fresh and clean ... but perfect. Just like pussy. Capital “P” Pussy. I could taste a hint of soap, and a bit of sweat, but all that just came together in one big taste that screamed “Pussy” to me. I loved her several times more than what I had so far, and just licked my way to heaven. At long last, when Dennis made the move-along noise, I leaned back and rolled her over, and dived into her ass. And oh god, it just got better and better.

Okay, more shit about me. I’m not really anal-retentive, or OCD about stuff. I’m not nasty-nice ... I have my hangups, a hair in my drink will sent me to the bathroom and empty my stomach, if I’ve already drank from that cup ... I’d almost be brave enough to say I’m almost normal, in that regard. I’d never “eaten ass,” until I got into porn. Like I’ve said before, I’d never made out with a girl, until I got into porn. And I still, to this day, have never eaten a guy’s ass out. Call me weird ... but that doesn’t turn me on a bit. And eating girl’s asses ... I did it because I had to, when I had to. Usually video, weirdly, it’s not something you really see a lot in stills, I think. Or just maybe I haven’t noticed. But ... this girl ... her ass sent me over the edge. Spicy, more aromatic than her cunt ... strong and slightly shitty ... her ass just blew me away. I licked and slurped around on it until Dennis finally pointed his camera at the sky and said my name. I slowly came back to earth, and turned to look at him. Truth be known, I was a little piqued that he’d stopped my fun.

“Gracie, honey,” he said, a bit familiar, I thought. I mean, he’s seen every square inch of my body naked, but I still barely knew him. “Gracie, I can see you’re really gettin’ into this, but I got a schedule to keep. I gotta be in Marseille by tomorrow mornin’, darlin’...”

The makeup girl and grip kid laughed, and I smiled, just wanting to get back to her. They had their little joke. They all seemed a bit closer than normal, and I wondered if they were getting an eyeful. Looking back ... I dunno, maybe they knew something momentous was happening, at least for Elspeth and myself.

“Let’s get it on, honey,” he said, pointing the camera back at me. Elspeth had turned, and was front up, and I fell onto her, pressing my mouth to hers.

“Darling...” I said, as I moved to her neck.

“Come...” I dropped down to her right breast, slurping her fat nipple in my mouth after I spoke.

“Home...” now her left tit.

“With...” the other side of her neck.

“Me...” back to her mouth, rubbing my tits against hers, nipple to nipple.

“Please!” I didn’t care if the others could hear, I didn’t care about anything but her, at that point.

“Yeah,” is all she said, and that was enough. I was happy, as happy as I could ever remember being. The most beautiful, wonderful girl in the world was coming home with me, and I knew what we’d do when she got there. More of this shit, lots more.


The shoot tapered down to nothing, at last, Dennis and the Chainsaw got their pics, and a week later I looked at them on Draxxxon’s, trying to see if the incredible mood of sexiness that I’d felt from her had been communicated. It had, I think, to some extent, and those pics are still up, as far as I know, which means they were well received. To me, and maybe I’m hypercritical, having been in the industry, but to me the real pics are way more sexier, when the participants are really feeling it, not faking anything. We weren’t faking anything that day, although I hadn’t realized it yet, we weren’t even faking being in love.

We dressed together, in the bathroom, and kissed there once, a quick little smooch, but our first real kiss. I’m not sayin’ those others didn’t count, but they were on the clock. This one wasn’t.

Not another word was spoken on whether or not she’d come home with me. We grabbed our bags, and got the fuck out of there. I think the Chainsaw had wanted to sit and chat a while, as was his style, but we were gone before the grip came back with his coffee.

In the taxi we touched, we pressed our knees together, and held hands, all four hands, in a big wad of hands in the middle of us. We didn’t say anything other than what was necessary to get back to my place. In a way, we barely knew each other, at that point ... though we’d had sex, we’d almost fucked our brains out, we were strangers.

I brought her in the apartment, and to my pleasure Madelon was gone, leaving a note saying she was gone to Bangkok with a producer for a few weeks. Goddam, I thought, a few weeks ... this is fate at work.

She sat demurely on the couch, and I fixed some tea. She giggled at the Englishness of tea in Paris, and we smiled at each other, some kind of solid beam of pure energy or something going from my eyes to hers and back again. I felt her lust and her almost supernatural love through my eyes. I slowly put down my tea and leaned forward. Our lips touched, barely touched. I traced the line of her lip with my tongue, and felt the hesitant touch of her tongue as she extended it. Seconds later we were laying on the couch, me on top. I yanked her blouse and buttons exploded in every direction. I yanked mine apart too and threw my shirt in the floor. Precious time was wasted as we fumbled with each other’s bra straps, and I cursed the people that had made the goddam things so difficult. At last we were free, and I fastened my lips on her beautiful tit. The rest, as they say, is history.

I awoke, as seems to be my habit, in the stillest deepest moment of the night. We lay, not exactly beside each other or one of us on top, but entangled, our arms and legs intertwined, I think as close together as two people can get without actually being one. Her arms were around me tightly, even though we slept. I hugged her back, the side of my face pressed against the side of hers, and cried. I just bawled, I wept, I guess the word is. I wept for a thousand reasons, for love, for the mortality that would steal her away from me someday, for the waste of my life until now ... but most of all I wept because I loved her. I feared losing her, as I knew someday I would, even if we had a long perfect life together. I knew that she felt like I did, already, I had realized by now that what I felt for her was overpowering, unmistakable love. I know there’s ten trillion ways to lose somebody, and every one of them seemed right around the corner. Surely, whatever cosmic forces pull our strings, surely they could see that this was the rightest thing in the universe ... that this just had to happen. I was made, I was conceived and birthed twenty years ago for this moment, for this girl. I kissed her gently and cried, as fate moved us forward through the maze of time and space. I loved her more than I thought possible to love, way more than I’d ever guessed could be done yesterday.


We made house like newlyweds, exploring each other, learning about each other, our habits, our likes and dislikes ... we got to know each other, as we tangled up in each other about as intimately as two people could. Her breath smelled beautiful in the morning, I worried about mine, but she never let on, if it was unpleasant. She was the kindest, sweetest, most perfect creature on the face of the planet. How’d you ever get into porn? I asked her once. She laughed. Ya gotta do somethin’, and when asked nicely, I just can’t say no, she said, and I understood. I laughed and hugged her, and our mouths touched. Again, and again.

Two boys lived beside us, another couple, obviously ... once as we came up the sidewalk to our place they stopped us, shyly giggling, and gave us two roses they’d picked, probably from our own flowerbed.

“Vous etes roses,” the tall one said, “Votre amour est evident.” They walked away giggling, and we giggled too. The roses faded, as our love grew stronger.


“Darling...” her voice was as soft as the night.

“What, baby?” I whispered back.

“I can ... I can actually remember ... being a kid, almost a baby, and sucking on my mom’s boob ... I can remember milk dripping out of her nipple, her fat little nipple...”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Fuck ... you can remember shit that far back?”

“Just once, just a single memory,” she said softly. “That’s what I thought of, when I saw Clittus, that first time. I thought of my mother’s nipple. Giver of life, and all that maternal shit. I thought that about you.”

I kissed her softly, and laughed. Her lips played down the side of my cheek and down my neck. She gently kissed my nipple.

“Baby,” she said, “Baby ... spread your legs.”

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Story tagged with:
Fa/Fa / Consensual / Lesbian / Fiction / Masturbation / Petting /